C C7
I was busted in Cleveland with a car full of beer;
F F#dim
The judge and the jury made one thing quite clear:
C Em7/B Am Am7/G G - G/E - G/F - G/E
It will be thirty days till I find myself free.
C C7
They opened my cell up on visiting day,
F F#dim
I found that my mother had come there to say -
C Em7/B Am Am7/G G - G/E - G/F - G/E
That old refrain, it still rings there in my memory:
C G C C7
She asked me, "How could you do this to me?
F C C7
How could you do this to me?
F C C7
Are you satisfied with the trouble you're caught up in?
F C C7
I know that I am the last one you thought of,
F C E7 Am
And there is one question that I'd ask of thee:
G /E /F /E /D C
How could you do this to me?"

Well, me and my woman were fighting again;
My mom was upset when she heard of our pain.
I said, "I'm thinking I'll have to divorce from my wife."
Mom said, "There's no point in fixing the blame,
If the scandal don't kill her, she'll die of the shame."
And then she intoned the drone I've heard all of my life:

She asked me, "How could you do this to me?
How could you do this to me?
Are you satisfied with the trouble you're caught up in?
I know that I am the last one you thought of,
And there is one question that I'd ask of thee:
How could you do this to me?"

With a tube in my arm, and a tube in my nose,
I was wearing those backless type hospital clothes,
With mom by my bedside directing her questions at me:
"As the bus was approaching, son, what did you do?
Did you think of your mom as it ran over you?
Because I worry so when you're sick or you're hurt, don't you see?"

She asked me, "How could you do this to me?
How could you do this to me?
Are you satisfied with the trouble you're caught up in?
I know that I am the last one you thought of,
And there is one question that's troubling me:
How could you do this to me?
How could you do this to me?"

(Words and music by Bob Gibson, 1985)

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